


Soft Things

by 8BitSkeleton



Category: Funhaus (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Office Sex, Panties, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7365043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8BitSkeleton/pseuds/8BitSkeleton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lawrence has known for a while that Matt likes to wear panties sometimes, so he doesn’t know why he’s so surprised when he catches a glimpse of them in the office while Matt is bending down under his desk one day. </p><p>He’s pretty much a goner, after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Things

**Author's Note:**

> this was written as a commission! i quite like how it turned out.

The thing is—

The fucking thing is that Lawrence already _knew_ that Matt wears panties sometimes. And the thing is that they’re not _together_ , not in the sense that they’re dating each other. But they’ve slept together on more than one occasion, have fooled around on a semi-weekly basis. So sue Lawrence, Matt is an attractive person. 

Lawrence can’t really pin down the instance when he and Matt started sleeping together but now, it’s not more of an ‘if’ but a ‘when.’ Before the gym or after the gym. Before work or after work. In Matt’s car or at Lawrence’s place.

So, Lawrence knows that Matt wears panties sometimes. Matt mentioned it offhandedly once in the heat of the moment, when Lawrence was talking dirty, spouting nonsense, something about lingerie, and Matt said, “I own a few pairs.”

And Lawrence had stopped. Asked, “Of what?”

“Panties.”

And that was it. Sealed the deal, made Lawrence kiss Matt so hard he had bruised lips for the rest of the day. 

Lawrence had asked more than once to see the panties, but Matt had never given into his requests. He’d told Lawrence, “I have to keep _some_ secrets.”

But, fuck. On Friday morning, they’re preparing to film their episode of The Know. Lawrence sends the script to Elyse’s email so she can queue it up on the prompter for Adam and Bruce while Lawrence leaves for the bathroom before they start recording.

Lately, their formula is Elyse on prompter, Matt on camera duty, Lawrence at Adam’s desk reading the news while Bruce and Adam are on set. So when Lawrence comes back in the office he expects to see everyone setting up for their jobs. 

Instead, what he gets is a front row view at Matt bending down under his desk to do who-the-fuck-knows what to the cables scattered under there, his ass in the air and his back arched for some ungodly reason. His shirt is riding up, his pants sagging down, and there, below the sliver of skin and the blue of his jeans, is the unmistakeable sight of red fabric with just a hint of lace that gets swallowed up by the waistband of Matt’s pants. With his eyes, Lawrence follows the swatch of red down to the pants, taking in the swell of Matt’s ass, conjuring forth the memory of how good it feels in his hands, and exhaling fast, the breath punched out of him.

Holy shit. Holy _shit_.

It’s like a dream come true. He resists the urge to pinch himself. 

Before he can snap out of his ogling, Bruce does it for him. Lawrence hears Bruce calling out his name from where he stands, leaning over the back of James’ chair. Bruce asks, “Ready to start?”

Lawrence’s eyes flit back to Matt, who has straightened up and is now only kneeling in front of his desk, grabbing the edge of it to start hauling himself back to his feet. Lawrence looks back to Bruce and nods, says, “Yeah, lemme get set up on Adam’s desk.”

The Adam in question pushes his chair back from his desk and leaves it open for Lawrence, says, “Mr. Sonntag,” before flopping down on the couch. As Lawrence tries to focus on anything but the fact that Matt is wearing red, lacy panties under his jeans, a movement to the right catches his eye. He knows he shouldn’t look because that’s where Matt is standing but goddamn, Lawrence is nothing if not curious. He looks—

And sees Matt stretching his arms over his head, the shirt riding up on his torso and uncovering that sliver of red under the waistline of his pants. Now that he’s closer, viewing it from the side, Lawrence catches a glimpse at-- is that lace _in the front, too?_ Holy crap. Lawrence is going to die. 

Just as soon as the glimpse starts, it ends. Lawrence blinks and the line of red is gone again, covered by Matt’s shirt. He blinks again, eyes landing on Matt’s face out of curiosity and, oh fuck, Matt is looking back down at him, eyes wide with amusement or question or both. Lawrence wants to ask him, _Hey, are those panties?_ slightly because he would like to torture himself for the next six hours he has to spend working, mind churning with the image of what Matt might look like in the underwear, what Matt might _feel like_ under his hands--

Lawrence opens his mouth.

Bruce calls out, “Let’s get everything set up. Elyse, are you ready?”

“All good here, Bruce.”

Lawrence’s mouth almost clacks shut. Time is suspended for him for a few seconds before Matt breaks their eye contact in order to turn away. Matt sets himself up behind Lawrence to watch of the camera and make sure it’s doing its job for the whole of the episode.

Lawrence does pinch himself, but only so he can snap out of his daze and focus on the task at hand.

 

Because Lawrence prides himself on being a goddamned professional (to an extent, his job is essentially to make dick jokes in front of a camera), he gets through the episode of The Know relatively unscathed. He mixed his words up and had to stop a few times but fuck yeah, he did it. 

After work, Bruce has something to do so he asks Lawrence to close up shop and gives him the keys. Bruce leaves first, almost hand in hand with James and Elyse, all three of them cracking jokes and making small talk that fades as they walk away. Adam follows quickly after, waving goodbye to everyone. Omar and the other editors leave at their own paces, slowly but steadily trickling out until all that’s let is Lawrence and Matt sitting at their desks in a silent stand off.

And fuck, sure, Lawrence is the first to buckle, he’ll admit that, but goddamn it will be _worth it_. He knows it will be.

Lawrence powers down his computer and settles his things on his desk, eyes all the while skimming Matt’s face. Matt never once looks away from his computer screen. Not even when Lawrence walks over does he look away. Not even when Lawrence speaks. 

“Hey Matt, are you wearing panties?”

Matt clicks his mouse, focused on his monitor. Says, “Maybe.”

Lawrence lets a silence linger over them for all of three seconds. He is mildly impatient, so he presses, “Could I see them?”

Eyes still on the computer screen, Matt says, “Maybe.”

Lawrence leans against Matt’s desk, his thigh pressed against Matt’s mouse hand. Says, “Don’t make me go all big, scary dom on you, Matt.”

Matt doesn’t move his mouse hand away from Lawrence but his other hand stops moving on his keyboard. He says, “Well, why don’t you?”

Lawrence blinks, taken aback. “Oh. That’s what you want?”

Matt shrugs. He moves his chair, his body, his eyes, in order to face Lawrence. Says, “Well, yeah.”

Sighing out blissfully, Lawrence says, “Okay, baby. I can do that. We’re using stoplights, okay?”

Matt nods, hands on his lap while he looks up at Lawrence, eyes wide and waiting.

Lawrence nods, too, and clears his throat. He knows that they should be at least a little patient and _leave_ the office but-- Lawrence’s eyes land on the faux-leather couch. An unfounded wish comes into his mind, the idea of it sticking. He kind of... wants to leave cum stains on the couch and have Bruce ask what they are on Monday; wants to see Matt blush beet red at the question, at _knowing_ that it was him. 

Okay, maybe it’s not unfounded. Lawrence _really_ wants to see that happen. He likes it when Matt is flustered. So he makes his way over to the couch and sits in the middle of it, extending his arms over the back of it, his stance relaxed. He clears his throat. 

“Peake, come here. I want you on my lap.”

Matt goes without challenge. Though his face is unguarded, his eyes are alert, ready and waiting for Lawrence to do what he wants. Matt slides his knees onto the couch, bracketing Lawrence’s hips. Lawrence’s hands go to Matt’s waist without hesitation, lifting his shirt past his bellybutton in order to catch another glimpse of the line of red fabric sitting on his hips. 

“Matt,” Lawrence says, seeking out eye contact. “Were you planning on ever showing me these panties?”

Matt takes a second before he answers and Lawrence pins that as hesitation. Matt shakes his head. Says, “Maybe.”

Lawrence swallows his smile, clenches his jaw. “Are you being snide with me?”

At this, Matt nods. Lawrence raises an eyebrow and hums. Says, “I hope you’re ready to face the consequences of your actions. That means punishment, Peake. Whatever I see fit.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, kiss me like you’re sorry.”

Without pause, Matt goes, his kisses not even putting up pretenses and just going for it. He sucks Lawrence’s bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue working its way into Lawrence’s mouth.

Exhaling softly at his current situation, Lawrence finds that he can’t help himself when he’s this close to Matt and allowed to touch him. His fingers go from stationary on Matt’s ribs to wandering, his hands are almost greedy as he slips them under the waistband of Matt’s jeans, his fingers coming into immediate contact with the soft lace of the panties covering Matt’s skin. The fit around Lawrence’s hands is much too tight for his liking, and he groans, frustrated, against Matt’s lips. His hands search out the button of his pants and pops it, feels just a touch of lace against his hand--

“Get up,” he tells Matt. “Up. Take off your pants.”

In a moment when Lawrence almost regrets telling Matt to stop kissing him.

Lawrence’s eyes go wide, his breath leaving him in a punched out, drawn out groan, an earnest, “ _Oh_.” Matt stands in front of him, pants around his ankles, wearing [a pair of red lace panties that are see-through in the front](https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/257561340/poppy-flower-soft-red-panties-with-lace?ref=shop_home_active_2). Lawrence can see the vein on the underside of Matt’s half-hard dick, how it pushes out the lace, how the hairs that trail down to Matt’s crotch are still visible _through the lace_. Feeling blessed, Lawrence sets his hands on Matt’s hips, one on each side of the panties, the cotton warm under his hands. 

“Baby. Baby, you look so good in these. I can’t believe you were going to keep them from me. Guess I really _will_ have to punish you.”

Matt nods, unburdened. Says, “How do you want me, sir?”

God, Lawrence is the luckiest fucker on this planet. He pulls Matt closer, replies, “Over my lap. I’m gonna spank you until I’m satisfied and you’re gonna count ‘em.”

“Yes, sir.” Matt doesn’t hesitate as he configures himself over Lawrence’s lap, kicking off his pants and shoes as he goes. When Matt is settled, Lawrence admires the sight of Matt’s ass in the panties. The panties which are apparently see-through in the front and in the back. Holy fuck, Lawrence has never considered himself luckier than he feels in this moment. He feels impatient. A _want_ that has seated itself in the pit of his stomach. Matt can no doubt feel Lawrence’s hard-on just how Lawrence feels Matt’s, both of them mere inches from each other. But god. God, Matt’s ass in these panties. It sets Lawrence’s skin ablaze. 

With one hand on Matt’s back, pushing his shirt up and one hand on Matt’s ass, feeling the supple skin give under his unmerciful hold, Lawrence snaps, somehow. His patience, he thinks. He barely gets out the words, “Are you ready for this, baby?” before his hand is pulling back, poised for a spank. 

Matt breathes out, “Yes.”

Lawrence drops his hand over Matt’s ass, feeling the lace scrape over his palm as he drags the hit up, pushing the flesh up. 

Matt says, “One.”

Feeling the headiness of domination already clouding his mind, Lawrence drops another hit onto Matt’s ass. Not even waiting for Matt’s count, he drops another with more force behind it and asks, “Color?”

Not missing a beat but still sounding breathless, Matt says, “Green. Two, three.”

“Good boy.” He drops another hit and rubs the redness he leaves behind in, watching the color bloom under the lace covering.

“Four.”

Slipping his hand under Matt’s panties, Lawrence grabs a cheek and massages the flesh in his hand, almost groaning at how _soft_ it feels under his hand. On that wavelength, he pushes the the panties down over Matt’s ass, uncovering the reddened flesh, hearing Matt’s sharp intake of breath at being undressed further. In the front, in Lawrence’s lap, the fabric gets caught against the head of Matt’s dick. 

“Get up a little, baby? Yeah, there we go.” Lawrence slides the panties down to Matt’s knees, still in view but out of the way. With both hands, he grabs Matt’s cheeks, spreading him open as a teaser only to have Matt shiver and push back into his hand. Lawrence decides not to comment and instead a deals another spank onto Matt’s ass. Matt’s voice has a slight tremble as he says, “Five.” 

Lawrence can feel Matt’s cock leaking onto his pants as he drops another hit onto Matt’s ass. Matt sounds strained as he counts, “Six,” his hips moving almost of their own accord in little circles on Lawrence’s lap. Lawrence would be mad if Matt wasn’t so desperate for it. As it stands, Lawrence’s free hand snakes under Matt, around his hip, pulling Matt’s ass up into the air and cutting off all contact with Lawrence’s lap, with the friction.

He watches Matt’s cock hang heavy, thick and dripping, between his legs. Eyes wandering down its length, he watches another bead of precum form on the head. Following that to his pants, he sees the stain Matt’s left on them and he gets a thrill down his spine at the sight. 

The next hit he drops onto Matt’s ass makes Matt’s hips shudder. With his head basically dug into the couch’s cushion, Matt almost-whispers, “Seven.”

“Eight.” Matt’s knees are shaking.

“Nine.” Matt’s body is trembling.

“Ten.” Matt’s mouth is open, his breaths leaving exhale streaks on the faux-leather.

“You did so good. You were so good for me, baby.” Lawrence manhandles Matt into his lap, pressing Matt’s back into his chest and adjusting him in such a way that his erection presses up against Matt’s ass. With his forearm steadying Matt’s shaky placement, Lawrence presses a line of kisses down the back of Matt’s neck and then another line from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. 

In between kisses, Lawrence speaks. Says, “Now, let’s see what we can do about that pretty little cock of yours.”

Lawrence wraps his hand around the base of Matt’s cock and squeezes. Matt squirms and groans in his lap. 

“Aw, baby, look at you. Your ass is so sore you can barely sit still. Does it hurt? Tell me.”

Hips not staying still, Matt says, his voice thin, “It hurts b-but I like it.”

Lawrence hums, “Of course you do, sweetheart. Of course.” He strokes up roughly, aiming for too-hard, too-fast, just this side of painful. “I bet this won’t take long, right? You were leaking for it earlier.”

Matt shakes his head. Whispers, “Please.”

The thrill that runs up Lawrence’s spine spurs him on. He runs his thumb over the wet head of Matt’s cock and takes the precum from there to aid his movements. Matt arches his back at the drag of Lawrence’s hand on his cock, the rhythm of it fast and all too dirty. 

And with the rhythm, Lawrence really has no mercy here. His strokes are purposeful and swift, even as Matt shakes and moves in his grasp. His words at Matt’s ear are almost too much. The pet names and the encouragements, all, “Come on, baby. Come for me. I wanna see you come apart under my hands, I want to know who you belong to. Baby, you’re mine. Mine, you’re mine, and I want you to come in my hand. Wanna see you come all over yourself from just my hand, from just me punishing you.”

“ _Lawrence--_ ”

“Like that, baby, fuck. You’re so wet. So close, right? Almost?”

“Almost, I, I--”

“Fuck yes,” Lawrence feels Matt’s cock pulse in his hand. Feels Matt’s orgasm hit as his chest heaves with breaths, as his mouth goes wide in a trembling moan. Matt comes in streaks over his own shirt and Lawrence’s hand, with Lawrence stroking him through it, milking the come out of him until Matt recoils from oversensitivity. 

As Lawrence lets go of Matt’s softening dick, his own erection throbs. He drops his forehead onto Matt’s back and concentrates on calming the fuck down. He succeeds for the most part, right up until Matt shifts in his grasp while taking his shirt off, drawing a strung out moan from Lawrence. 

Sheepishly, Matt says, “Sorry.”

With an iron will, Lawrence releases Matt. Says, “Don’t worry about it. Are you good?”

Matt breathes in deeply and wipes his shirt over his lap. Says, “Very good.”

“I’m glad. You wanna lay down?”

“Please.”

Lawrence moves onto one end of the couch while Matt lays face down on the cushion, head pressed against Lawrence’s thigh, sore ass on display. The skin there is still red, Lawrence notices. His dick throbs absently, and he presses the heel of his hand against it out of habit. Matt lifts an eyebrow and asks, “Are _you_ good?”

Lawrence nods. “It’s okay.”

Leaning up on his elbows, Matt says, “Let me--”

Lawrence interrupts, says, “ _No_. You did so fucking good.” He pushes Matt back down. “Just rest, Matt. Breathe.”

“Thank you. Thank you,” Matt’s eyes close blissfully as he speaks.

Chuckling, Lawrence says, “Matt, please stop thanking me. I was about to thank _you_. Holy shit, those panties.” 

Matt smiles a little too genuinely, head digging into Lawrence’s thigh. “You liked them?”

Lawrence throws his head back and groans incredulously. “Fuck yeah, Matt. Fuck, yes.” 

Matt nods. “Good. Then I think you’ll like the rest of them.”

Lawrence chokes on his own saliva at that. “You mean I get to see them?”

Matt’s grin turns cheeky. “Well. Maybe.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tmblr](http://shiphaus.co.vu/)


End file.
